The Eagle and the Dragon: A Dance of Stags and Eagles
by ImperatorAnonymous
Summary: Jon Arryn is dead, Eddard Stark is Hand of the King, and in the midst of it all, the Romans prepare to survive. Part 2 of "The Eagle and the Dragon" Series (Part 1 of the Rewrite for: The Eagle and the Dragon: The War of the Six Kings)
1. The Arrival

**_The Arrival_**

_Alexandria Andalica_

The raven had arrived but ten days earlier, so in haste, Alexandria of the Andals was prepared to recieve a King and his entourage.

Robert Baratheon was not used to travel by ship, he had sworn off such a transport ever since that bleak day at the Shipbreaker Bay. But he had found it preferrable to travel by ship from White Harbor to suffer through the long ride with Cersei's damned monstrosity of a wagon.

The ship docked and they were greeted by the Roman guards, spears glistening in the sun as an arch of spears was formed above them, red shields with the Chi-Rho in white were by the side of each guard, and they wore lamellar armor over a red tunic. They made an impressive sight.

Of course, Robert Baratheon had seen them fight, and he found that sight, of the Roman foot marching in formation with their spears breaking a cavalry charge, or their own cavalry cutting down Ironborn, was something he found more impressive than the little show.

The King walked first, followed by Ser Barristan Selmy and Lord Stark. Behind them walked the Queen, her children, and Ser Jaime Lannister and Sandor Clegane. Behind them went the children of Lord Stark, and then the rest of the entourage.

"Your Grace" The man that uttered these words was of average height, with a clean-shaven face of a colour that seemed almost Dornish, with dark eyes and dark hair that was kept short. He wore a white tunic and a red cloak that was decorated enough. He bowed and then stood up as the King reached him.

It was widely known that, even if the relation between them was not as close as it had been between him and Lord Arryn or as it was with Lord Stark, the King and the Governor of the Provincia Andalica got along well enough.

"Hah! I'll have none of those courtesies, gods know I got enough of them on my way here."

Flavius Constantinus, nodded at that, looking at them. "I will host you, her Grace the Queen, your Children, Lord Stark and his family at my palace, there is enough space for that, I will also find lodgings for the rest of your entourage.."

"Bah! leave the copper counting to the clerks you Romans love so much, I would like to meet your family."

With a slight chuckle, Constantine led the King to a set of horses and a carriage, and the group made its way to a palace, it was not as massive as the keeps of most lords, built in brick and stone with an arched entrance. They dismounted -or left the carriages- as servants brought their things.

"I think we will stay here for a week got to get some of that Wine you Romans make" Stated the King as they walked in. That night there would be a feast.

* * *

It was as loud as She had feared. The King had made minstrels come, he was boisterously telling various people about his own exploits during the Rebellion, and Daena Velaryon, wife to the Governor of the Provincia Andalica, had made her way towards their eldest child.

Flavia Valentina stood on a balcony, a slim young woman with large black eyes, long dark hair and olive skin. Daena looked at her and sighed.

"Dear, what do you make of the Prince?" She asked calmly, her own purple eyes focusing on the younger woman who rolled her eyes.

"He is a good actor... but even Father can see that his pleasantries are a mummer's farce. If that's the man that will be Emperor and King, then god save us all"

Daena let out a soft sigh, she could not help but agree.

"We should head back inside, I believe Cornelius' capability to keep your father sane inside there might be coming to an end" She finally added with a slight smirk, Valentina nodded and the two made their way inside.

The scene before them was messy to put the least, in the hall of the palace of the Flavii were not only the King and his entourage, but also a good portion of the mightiest men in Alexandria, heads of the patrician houses and such important figures. Aelius Hostilius, one of the senators, was by now drinking with Baratheon, matching him drink for drink, at least for now.

Elsewhere in the great hall, Flavius Cornelius, who was known as 'Draco' spoke with Lord Stark, his purple eyes appeared darker by the candlelight.

"I still think this was not a good idea" He finally stated.

"She will not continue with us to King's Landing, I think she will be safe with your family..."

"Damn it Stark, you could have warned me and you know that... Very well, but I fully expect to pass by, I suppose she still has absolutely no idea."

The feast finally died down, and as everyone was escorted to their chambers, Cornelius decided that he would rather not remain at Alexandria for the full week of the King's stay.


	2. A White Wolf in the Land of the Eagles

**_A White Wolf in the Land of the Eagles  
_**

_Citae Cervidae_

Cornelius pitied his cousin, having to remain in the company of the King, not that Baratheon was bad company, but those that came with him...

The girl in question was, to the world's eyes, the bastard daughter of Eddard Stark, her twin had left for the Wall and it was pretty logical that she did not want to be left to the tender mercies of Lady Catelyn Stark.

He was also quite thankful that, due to Cersei Lannister, she had been kept mostly out of the sight of the King. Her resemblance to Lyanna Stark was uncanny.

The two rode out of Alexandria and down the road towards the City of the Deers. The old keep of Antlers could be seen in the distance. Once it had been the seat of House Buckwell, now it was a fort, where the local garrison was stationed. Since they were still some hours away from the City, and the sun was setting, the two stopped at an inn.

"Is something wrong My Lord?" Cornelius inwardly grimaced, and looked at her

"First things first, Lynara, I am not a Lord, nor a Ser, just call me Cornelius, or Legate if you're feeling too formal, I'm just the Governor's cousin and that whole thing with noble titles is not something we do around here" He stated with a small sigh as they dismounted.

The girl, Lynara Snow, made her way into the inn behind him. They sat and soon enough, their meals were brought. Bread, chicken, cheese, some fo that garum sauce, and mulsum.

Noticing her flinch, Cornelius let out a small chuckle, eating calmly as the girl avoided the sauce and just ate the chicken as it was.

"Don't worry, we don't eat that thing too often at home, my wife can't stand garum either" He replied with a chuckle, watching as she ate slowly.

They had exchanged very few words during their trip, her mood was often dark, and now that he thought about it, her eyes were of a very dark hue, but if one looked carefully, one could almost see hints of purple...

Once they had eaten and he had paid, the two headed off to catch some sleep, they would have a few hours of riding the next morning.

* * *

Lynara had to admit, that she liked better the villa of Cornelius, at least when compared with the palace of the Flavii. They rode into the stone building, and as servants took her few belongings to put them in a chamber for her. Cornelius thus led her inside the house.

"I'm sure you'll get along with my children" He had stated. The two had arrived just in time to break their fast with Cornelius' family.

Lynara couldn't help but blink, as she had never seen so many people with silver hair and purple eyes in the same place. She sat, slightly nervous.

"Ah, don't worry dear, make yourself at home" Told her the silver-haired woman with a kind smile. Lynara would later learn that her name was Tyrai, and that she was actually from Lys, daughter of a smaller merchant family.

Of course, as kind as they seemed to be, she could not bring herself to say that this could never feel like home. Not without Arya or Bran or Robb, or even that prick Theon.

She smiled as the rest of the family was seated, a rather skinny boy and a girl that seemed to be about her own age. They were introduced as Flavius Romulus and Flavia Davinia, and at last, they all broke their fast.

As the idle chatter led to her host jesting about his cousin's misfortune -namely, having to host the King and Queen-, to questions about the North and to her own questions about the remarkable roads the Romans had, to her own comments on how quiet this trip had been compared to their own trip from Winterfell.

Even if she could feel somewhat comfortable here, Lynara could not truly feel at home.


	3. Interlude: The Andalic Wars

Note: The Interludes will remain the same.

* * *

**_Interlude: The Andalic Wars  
_**

_Taken from "On the Romans" by Maester Qyllan of Highgarden, unless stated oth__erwise _

... Belisarius and his Romans had arrived to Old Maidenpool, when Harwyn the Hardhand was King of the Isles and Rivers. And indeed he nearly destroyed the newcomers in one fell swoop. Once the first Ironborn raid on the small roman fort -which was not christened as Alexandria Andalica until a few years later- was crushed, He began looking warily at the Romans. Maidenpool was razed and House Mooton was put to the sword, only surviving Ser Alyn Motoon, who was a guest of the Magister Militum and whose grandson would be granted the abandoned Rayonet by Flavius Theodosius.

While the armies of both, Ironmen and Romans were likely embellished in later retellings -seeing how, twentythousand men is almost the full strenght of the Iron Islands in warriors- The viciousness of the fighting was not.

The spark that ignited the Second Andalic War, was the baptism of Lord Rollingford. While normally the harsh rule of Harwyn Hardhand gave no qualms to the religion of its subjects, he feared that other lords in the area east of the Gods' Eye would follow, and that they could form the core of a pro-Roman coalition. When word came that the Hardhand and his men rode towards Rollingford. Lord Rollingford called upon Belisarius for aid.

It was short and brutal. Houses Byrch and Buckwell joined Harwyn's troops, as they also feared the growing christian population in their domains. The Romans razed Byrch Hall to the floor, and in battle against Flavius Belisarius and his Romans fell all but one of the members of House Buckwell. At the end of the war, the Romans stood victorious. Harwyn the Hardhand did not try to defeat the Romans, for he was too busy. Arrec Durrandon saw the chance in the conflict between Romans and Ironborn to reconquer the Riverlands.

Upon Harwyn Hoare's death, his son, Halleck, saw another war. Seeking to avenge the humilliation done to his father, Halleck Hoare marched with a force of Riverlanders and Ironborn towards Alexandria. Hoping to sack it and kill the Romans. The Third Andal War was the last campaign of the old Magister Militum. Despite his advanced age, he showed to still be a brilliant commander and dealt Halleck Hoare a great defeat near the future site of Harrenhal. According to Aelius Hostilius:

_"The Mighty Host of Halleck, Rex Ripuarius et Insularis was crushed, One in every ten of his soldiers was captured. The Riverlanders surrendered, while the Ironborn that fell on Belisarius' hands were all hanged. By insistence of Julius Gallienus, they were hanged on the zone that, according to the Romans, was the new border between the power of Rex Halleck and the realm of the Romans."_

Halleck Hoare focused thereafter on keeping the central Crownlands -pressured by both the Romans to their North and the Stormlanders to their South- and on his attempts to subdue the Vale, which would eventually cost him his life. Belisarius died shortly after his victory. And his son, Theodosius became Magister Militum and Imperial Regent.

Once more, the desire to avenge the previous defeats saw war coming up. Harren Hoare marshalled his troops. However, he proved a more competent commander than his father had been. The Romans suffered their first defeat in the Battle of Rollingford. And he besieged Alexandria -which had grown into a large city, absorbing the ruins of Old Maidenpool- by taking a second army in Longboat towards the Blackwater Bay and then sailing towards the Bay of Crabs and landing by the city. This time the Romans were forced to call upon an unlikely ally: King Argilac of the Stormlands, who feared that King Harren might try to invade his realm upon crushing the Romans.

The Stormlanders crossed the Blackwater Bay in force, and the Romans regrouped in Citae Cervidae. As King Harren managed to defeat the Stormlanders near Rosby, the Romans took Duskendale and began marching south. King Harren retreated to the other side of the Blackwater Rush, abandoning Rayonet and Rosby to the Romans. After this war, he focused on building his great keep.

Harrenhal was a symbol. A symbol of King Harren's might, and an act of defiance against the Romans. It was Harren's vow to return and finish his job. In Alexandria, some pressured Theodosius to march into the Riverlands and gather around himself the Riverlander Lords, however, without any way to secure such a situation, Flavius Theodosius instead focused on securing his domain over the lands between the Gods' Eye and the Blackwater Bay.

Focusing on keeping peace with the Stormlanders, Theodosius took the youngest of Argilac's cousins for wife. However relations soured as Argilac sought to see the Romans become his vassals, and to use them to reconquer the realm that had been lost by Arrec Durrandon. not even the rather fortunate marriage of Theodosius to Cassana Durrandon could keep both realms allied, and tensions came to head in the Fifth Andalic War, this time between King Argilac and the Romans. Neither side won a decisive victory. Instead, the backdrop was set for the offering of the Provincia Andalica as dowry to Aegon Targaryen for a marriage between him and Argella Durrandon and the eventual Wars of Conquest. Having made enemies of both the Hoares and the Durrandons, the Romans were quick to make joint cause with the invading Targaryens and to swear themselves to Aegon the Conqueror...


	4. Red and Black

Note: Yes, the order of some chapters will be altered, don't worry, the timeline itself remains mostly intact. I just want to do things slightly different than the first time around and Introduce the major players of phase one before moving on. Also, please, reviews are the lifeblood of the writer, so make sure to leave your thoughs in a review.

* * *

_**Red and Black**_

_Braavos_

Dinner, for the Queen Dowager of the Seven Kingdoms, was a rather quiet time. Of course, one would say that exiled royals would always live a life in danger, but it was widely known that the policies of Braavos were tied to those of the Iron Bank. The growing debt of Robert Baratheon's rule to the Iron Bank meant that the Sealord decided it more proper to keep the clearest pretenders to the Iron Throne at hand, rather than leave them to their own devices.

Thus, she had been gifted a house, and a stipend that was adequate for a decent -if not kingly- living for her and her small household.

As it had become her custom in the long years of exile, Rhaella read the letter from her nephew while waiting for dinner. She did so quietly, putting it on the fire once she was done. Thinking while she sat alongside her daughter Daenerys.

Before the food could arrive however, visitors were announced. She told one of the Braavosi guards to let them in as both Ser Barristan and Ser Lewyn watched. Two young men -and the eldest could not be older than Three and Twenty, while the younger one could only be six and ten- and a girl who seemed to be of age with the younger of the men. All three of them had the Valyrian looks, and if anything, the eldest reminded her vaguely of her Grandfather in his features.

"Your Grace" Stated the eldest, his violet eyes looking at the Queen Dowager "I have come to you in order to put an end to the feud between our houses" As he said this, he placed a longsword in the table.

"I am afraid that I do not understand, why would our houses have a feud..." Rhaella Targaryen was taken out of her thoughts by the sword. It was long, with a long handle and each end of the crossguard ending in a dragon's head, while the pommel was decorated with rubies. The man had pulled it so an inch or two of the blade were visible, and with it, the ripples of Valyrian Steel. The whole room fell in silence as the young man spoke again.

"Your Grace, my name is Aenar, son of Aerion, son of Daemon of House Blackfyre, and these are my siblings Alysanne and Daemon. We come before you to put an end to the feud between the Red and Black Dragons, Your Grace." Aenar then bowed, and Rhaella looked at him, then at her Kingsguard. Ser Barristan had a hand on his sword already. All he needed was an order to pull it out. Ser Lewyn just watched warily. He had heard tales but was waiting to see what would the Queen do.

Rhaella figured that if they were here, it was because the Sealord of Braavos wanted them here. ¿Did he know something she did not know? That was likely. However she found it odd that the Sealord had such an interest in this...

"I suppose," She began after some tense seconds, "That you are here for something else besides putting a _peaceful_ end to our feud" She stated, stressing the word peaceful, in case anyone had the bright idea to bare steel in the room.

Aenar looked at her and nodded "Your Grace, to end the feud, I am aware that there is one issue that must be solved, the issue of the line of succession for the Iron Throne."

Queen Rhaella had to admit, she did see it coming. She stood up and took the longsword. sheathing it fully and carefully placing it above the fireplace, away from the reach of anyone in the room -at least without being noticed reaching for it- and made the three visitors be seated alongside herself and Daenerys at the table. Still wondering what did her friend the Sealord have in mind by arranging this.

* * *

_Volantis_

Ser Jorah Mormont had been knighted by King Robert Baratheon for his bravery at Pyke. He had fought at the call of Lord Eddard Stark against the men led by Rhaegar Targaryen, and had been present at the battle beneath the walls of Harrenhall, when Robert Baratheon had caught Prince Rhaegar and killed him with his warhammer.

He could not help but find it ironic, now that he had sworn himself but a few months ago to Viserys Targaryen.

Very few outside of Volantis knew about the lad. He was supposed to be dead, killed in a storm as his mother fled Westeros. In truth, he had survived. The storm had blown his ship off course and in the end they had come to dock at Volantis.

Parquello Vaelaros, Triarch for the Tigers, had taken the boy in, taking the opportunity when he saw it.

Viserys had grown under the care of the Vaelaros, and married the man's daughter, Trianna once they were both of age.

Parquello Vaelaros was also insistent that the truth of the fate of the Queen Dowager and her Daughter not be revealed to either Viserys or his Daughter. For what reason, Ser Jorah had no idea, but some possibilities did pass through his head from time to time.

Ser Jorah could not help but think that it was a good match.

The lady Trianna was a gracious lady with a will of iron underneath the silk. More than capable of keeping her husband's moods in check. Of soothing him when needed and of Standing up to him when it needed to be done.

And Viserys himself was a fine enough man. Despite his temper he had grown to be well-read and with a mind for diplomacy. He could be called greedy, ambitious and impatient, but he was also more than capable of dealing with emissaries.

A Riddle of a man, that is what Jorah thought of the princeling, yet one he had found himself following.

Viserys on the other hand, found his Northern sworn sword most curious. A Man that had fought against his house yet was willing to swear himself to his cause. Thus, once he got the chance, he made his question.

"Ser Jorah... Why is it that, even when you served the Usurper from Harrenhall to Pyke, you are here, serving me, instead of in Westeros, serving him?"

Viserys had chosen Ser Jorah to advise him in military matters, the solemn northman with an air of nostalgia around him.

With sorrow in his eyes, the Northman told his tale. Of how he had been a fool for love, and sought to keep the flame alive by commiting crimes so henious that not even the Night's Watch was no choice for him.

While Viserys did not find Slavery itself so absolutely appalling, he did not consider it good by any measure, he was also well aware that it was hated with passion in Westeros, and not even the Volantenes seemed keen to introduce the institution to the lands.

Almost reading his intent, Ser Jorah said one set of words.

"Your Grace, I dishonored myself and my family. Even if you pardon me of my crimes once you have been restored, I must not return North nor seek to be Lord of Bear Island once more. I shall serve you in whatever way you see fit, except for that."

Viserys had been left with much to think about as the sun fell below the horizon. But surely that could wait. His wife was waiting after all.


End file.
